


Crazy Crap

by ButterflyGhost



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:52:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: "Tin can man, dragging from a carJust to see how alive you really are."(The Tragically Hip)





	

**Author's Note:**

> It dawns on me that I have posted no fic this year. I'm still alive - here's the proof. (And I didn't even need to hang on to the back of a moving car to prove it.)
> 
> Written at speed without beta as part of an exercise to get my Muse back.

Sometimes I look at the crazy crap that man does and I don't think 'what a moron.' I think - 'what a rush.'  
  
  
  
Took me a while to figure it out, but I think I get it now. What it is he's feeling when he crashes through a window or jumps off a building or hangs onto the back of a moving car. When he nearly kills himself or me.  
  
  
  
He's feeling alive. Maybe he only feels alive when he knows he might die. All those times he steps up to a gunman and says 'now you don't really want to shoot me, do you Son?' Fraser's not doing it to 'maintain the right.' Not just that anyway. He's doing it because he's a crazy fuck and because it makes him feel alive. He's doing it because he forgets there's people that love him. He's doing it because he forgets it would kill me if something happened to him. He's doing it because he knows he might die. Maybe he wants to, how the hell would I know? Why else would you step in front of a gunman and say 'you don't want to shoot me'? _Fraser, he has a gun! Of_ _course he wants to shoot you! Half the time I want to shoot you!_

 

  
What is he thinking? What the hell is he getting off on?

  
  
That edge, I guess. That knife-blade line between death and life. It's a wonder his feet don't bleed. I could hate him for that, for walking such a sharp line. He doesn't look left, he doesn't look right, he doesn't look behind him. He doesn't see me. Not when he's walking the blade. I should hate him, it would be so much easier.  
  
  
  
But I can't hate him. The man's so damn beautiful. Not just body beautiful - that's hollow if there's nothing behind it. Like a votive candle without a flame. See? A Catholic upbringing left something. But it's true. Fraser's like a lit candle. A Chinese lantern floating away all by itself. There's something real and pure and lonely in him, even when he's being crazy and impossible and stupid. Especially then. All that jumping off of buildings, crashing through windows, chasing cars. Who does he think he is, Superman? Yeah, well. He's such a bullshitter that sometimes I think he might be right. Just for a second.

  
  
  



End file.
